


Carry Me Home

by IWillBeTheEndofYou



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Beel is a teddy bear, Carrying, Cuddles, F/M, I wanna dance with Asmo, Illness, Lucifer is a BAMF, Mammon is trouble, Some Fluff, Some angst, dance until you drop, injuries, lift me up, longing looks, piggy back rides, the author offers no apology, video games - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:53:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26202223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWillBeTheEndofYou/pseuds/IWillBeTheEndofYou
Summary: Various ways the brothers have all carried you.
Relationships: Asmodeus/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Beelzebub/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Belphegor/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Female Character(s), Lucifer/Main Character/Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Male Character(s), Satan/Main Character (Shall We Date? Obey me!)
Comments: 39
Kudos: 441





	1. I'm Just A Problem That Doesn't Wanna Be Solved

**Author's Note:**

> I can't help myself.

You had known from the beginning that it was a bad idea. Not just because Mammon was full of bad ideas, not because Mammon was so often in trouble, but just because it sounded like a bad idea. It felt like a bad idea. Alarm bells rang in your head as soon as he described it.

So you said yes.

And that was why you were no running down the streets of Devildom, your breath burning in your lungs, your heart about to beat right out of your chest. Your feet threatened to skid and slide on the pavement, which was, you thought, somewhat better kept than places in the human realm you'd been to.

“Come on!” Mammon urged, an arm's length ahead of you. “Don't look back. Ya gotta keep goin'.”

“I don't think I can.” you panted out.

“Well, too bad. Yer my human, and if they think they're getting' their dirty mitts on you, they've got another thing comin'.” he growled.

That would be sweet, if you weren't sure that there was certain death right on your heels. The others had warned you, of course. Never trust a demon. Even us. Especially us. Well, Mammon. Don't trust Mammon. He'll only lead you to trouble.

And indeed he had.

But it had been so much fun! The gambling parlor had been nothing short of amazing, with all the lights and sounds. Mammon had promised you that all you had to do was sit next to him. You'd sat primly in the chair pulled up next to his. 

He had carefully selected your clothing for that night. Skin tight black jeans that hugged your hips. A tank top that gave a peek of your belly when you bent over. Topped with a short black leather coat. He demanded that you put on make up and do your hair.

“Why?” you blinked.

“Because if yer goin' with me, ya gotta look amazing. I need everyone to know that you're beautiful.” he paused, a blush rising on his cheeks.  
“I mean, I need everyone else to think you're beautiful. I don't really care if ya are.” 

And you had obliged. After all, he was taking you out, even if it was only to this gambling parlor. You observed the demons surging around you. You felt your cheeks warm when the eyes of the incubi and succubi roved over you. You scooted closer to Mammon at least once, and he didn't seem to mind. He just shot you a casual grin, one arm winding around the back of your chair.

“What is SHE doing here?” someone else at the table they sat at spat as they sat down. They were on the purists, you realized. Stayed in demon form all the time. Their eyes glowed a sick shade of neon green. You shrank into yourself just a little bit, suddenly feeling a little too exposed in your outfit.

“Because I want her here.” Mammon shot back, putting his hand of cards face down on the table. “She's my good luck charm. Ya wanna make somethin' of it?” something in the air around him crackled dangerously. 

The other demon held up their hands. Mammon let his arm rest around your shoulders, hugging you tightly. It made your heart flutter, just a little bit. You did love the extra physical affection. He was keeping you safe. For all that he pretended out loud that he didn't care, that you were a pain in his ass, he wanted you here. 

The fact that he was using you as a distraction as he cheated shouldn't be counted, you thought.

Poker was above your head, anyway. You could never keep track of what was higher, and how to raise and bet. It was all gibberish to you. Mammon's pile of winnings was growing, so you didn't question it.

There was the ethical question of cheating, that was true. But this was Devildom, and you often found it easier to stay out of their politics. Did that make you guilty by association? Did your complacency damn you for their sins? It was too much to think about, really. You shoved those thoughts away and went back to drifting along to other thoughts. The exam coming up. Your cooking duty in a few days, and what you might make. Diavolo inviting you to tea next week, and what that meant.

“You're a damn dirty cheat!” the accusation cracked across your reverie, causing you to jump. Mammon's grip on you tightened. Whether that was to keep you tucked safe beside him or because he was starting to get scared, you weren't sure.

“I ain't!” he lied through his teeth. “Yer just bein' a sore loser.”

“You wanna step outside?” the demon seethed. Of course it was the one from earlier, the one who scowled at you. Well, you, for one, had no inclination towards taking this outside, but that didn't stop you from trying to edge the both of you towards the door.   
“Anyway, you're caught cheating, so your bet is forfeit.”

There was a heavy silence for a moment, then frantic whispering. You glanced around, noticed everyone staring at you. A sick feeling bubbled in the pit of your gut. You did not like where this was going. One hand clutched Mammon's chest.

“Give them the money.” you said in a low voice.

“I—I didn't put money in the pot.” he hissed back at you.

“What did you bet?” your heart pounded in your ears. Mammon exhaled softly, slowly. “Mammon. What. Did. You. Bet?”

“You.” he said sharply. “You were the pot.”

You gasped and wanted to draw away. But being away from him would leave you more vulnerable. The devil you know, you thought with something like humor. You sat frozen, feeling the room closing in on you.

Quick as lightning, Mammon swept the winnings into a bag and bolted for the door. He moved so fast, no one had time to react. Coins were spilling on the floor. You were sort of surprised that he didn't stop to scoop them all up.

You were racing down the block before you could think though, mostly due to Mammon dragging you. When you'd gotten a fair distance and a stitch had formed in your side, he released your hand.

“Listen, human, yer gonna hafta RUN.” he demanded. You could hear the crowd behind you. They were angry, and they wanted blood. And you wanted your blood to stay in your body. And so run you did.

But now you were exhausted. You weren't sure why he wasn't calling for help, or why he wasn't running straight to the House of Lamentation. Then it hit you.

Of course. He didn't want to lead the mob straight to his brothers. Lucifer was equally likely to throw him to them and let them rip Mammon apart. You couldn't say he didn't have any self preservation, you thought bitterly.

You finally skidded on the pavement and hit, your palms and knees stinging. You winced as you got up, picking bits of gravel out of the fleshy parts of your hands. It was only a little bit of blood, but it didn't feel great. That's gonna need some antiseptic, who knew what kind of filth there was down here that could make you sick.

“Come ON.” Mammon groaned. He raced back to you and took in the damage. “Can't ya even walk right!?!”

Before you could protest, Mammon bent down, his back to you. You blinked a few times and walked towards him, unsure of what he was expecting. Fast as he could, Mammon grabbed your thighs, adjusted you so you straddled his back. He began to rise, and you had no choice but to wrap your arms around his neck. He grunted as he shifted your weight, gripped your thighs. 

“You're pure useless sometimes, ya know?” he grumbled as he began to race away. You clung to him for the bumpy ride. It felt like hours, and even Mammon was beginning to wane. Finally, he was headed towards the House of Lamentation, towards what you knew what was going to be safety. You could almost relax.

He stopped running, and you expected him to dump you off his back, make you walk to the door yourself. Instead, he carried you gently, carefully. You were mad at him, certainly, but you still rested your cheek on his head.

He crept inside with you, let you slip off his back to the floor. The common areas were silent. He turned to look at you, put his hands on your shoulders.

“Okay?”

“I'm fine.” it wasn't entirely true. Your hands were stinging, and your knees ached. But you didn't want to tell him that.

“Good,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “So... ya better not tell anyone, got it?” you just nodded as he turned to go upstairs to his room.  
“And, human?”

“Mmm?”

“Thanks for comin'.” and he rushed off to his room. You went to the bathroom to wash out your hands and change into something much more comfortable. You slipped into bed with a sigh. You wouldn't tell anyone, of course. 

Lucifer finding out on his own was another story.


	2. Instead of Talking, Let Me Demonstrate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asmo takes you out dancing. The results aren't exactly as you pictured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Asmo enjoys boobs, don't you? 
> 
> Also, please note that Asmo would never do anything with anyone that wasn't in a clear head to consent. He's a demon, not a monster, after all. 
> 
> (Please drink responsibly.)

The music was loud. The lights were flashing, colors and bodies everywhere. You were pressed close to Asmo, following him to the beat. He was grinned, at least you were pretty sure he was. His hands were all over you, pulling you in close, pushing you away. You felt them gliding down your sides before he gripped your hips and spun you around, pressing your pelvises together. Your arms went up, your hands running down the his cheek.

You swayed to the music, his breath blowing softly in your ear. You wondered if he could hear or feel how fast your heart was pounding.

“Dearest, let's get a drink.” he said over the music. You nodded, grateful. He slipped his fingers through yours and pulled you towards the bar. In this area of the club, it was at least a little quieter. Asmo looked you up and down.  
“What do you fancy?”

“Water?” you asked hopefully.

“Oh, no no!” he laughed, sending a blush across your cheeks. “I could never get you water. Everyone would think that I was cheaping out. You wouldn't want to tarnish my reputation with all these lovely people, would you love?”

“No, of course not.” you mumbled.

Not tarnishing Asmo's reputation was what had led to a shopping spree yesterday. He spent hours with you in the shops, holding up this or that garment, nodding or shaking his head. You had been ready to plead for mercy when he found it. A body con dress in delicate pink. It was so short that you were afraid to breathe too hard in it, lest it show your panties. He insisted on tall pink heels that laced up your legs.

He'd done your make up, too, insisting you close your eyes until he was finished. When he finally let you see, you were coiffed and made up within an inch of your life. You had to admit though, you had never looked so hot before.

Whenever you tried to protest, he'd start his argument.

“I'm taking you to show you off. You have to look perfect. Sit still. Don't fidget. Darling, just try to work with me, please?”

And now you couldn't even drink water. It was almost enough to make you beg off, ask to go home early. Peel off this dress and take off these shoes. You knew your feet would be swollen and painful tomorrow, even if tonight was amazing.

“Here!” he thrust a drink out at you. “It matches your dress.” it certainly did. You took the glass skeptically, holding it by the stem.

“Did you order it just because of the color, and not because of the taste?”

“Maybe,” he sing songed. “Come on.” he was guiding you away from the bar. You looked back longingly at the bar tender, handing out bottles of water to other patrons. They caught your eye, and you swore they gave you a pitying look.

Asmo whisked you through the crowd, giving waves and shouts to a few, blowing kisses to the rest. He bought you to a table, where you sat down carefully, clamping your thighs together to protect your modesty.

“Drink up.” he clinked his glass to yours and watched you over the rim. You would have been content to just hold onto it, but he really seemed to want you to drink. Reluctantly, you brought it to your lips and sipped.

It tasted amazing. Sweet and soft, not like the burn of alcohol you were used to. Maybe he'd gotten you some kind of juice and had them put it in a nice glass. With a grateful look to the demon, you drank deeper. He let you rest for a few minutes until another song came on. With a grin, he took your empty glass and hand.

Dancing with him was amazing, of course. How could it not be. All you had to do was sort of sway in time with him. He was talented enough to carry the both of you. And if his lips brushed against your neck sometimes, and if his hands strayed down to cup your ass a few times, it seemed like that was par for the course.

He brought you more drinks, whispered in your ear how fantastic you looked that night.

“It's all your handiwork!” you said, close to his head.

“Darling, I only brought out the natural beauty. I wanted you to see yourself the way I see you.” he spun you around before the song changed. You were back to that dancing that felt almost like an invitation to sex. You knew your cheeks were pink, and not because of anything that Asmo had put on your face. You were beginning to feel a little light headed. How much juice had you had?

“I need to sit down.”

“But this is the best song. One more dance?” Asmo pouted, his perfect lips pouching out. You reached out and pressed one finger to his lower lip.

“One dance.” you agreed. He beamed. Maybe giving in wasn't the worst thing.

But one dance turned into several more, and a few more drinks. You felt dizzier, a little giddy. When there was a break in the songs, you turned to Asmo. The room seemed to tilt.

“Hey. What kind of juice was that?”

“Juice?” Asmo blinked his gorgeous eyes a few times. “Oh! No, sweetheart that was goldenglow dew.”

“It was? It was delicious.” your tongue felt heavy.

“Yes,” he looked at you carefully. “It isn't supposed to be very alcoholic. It isn't like the Demonus or the wine.” he hesitated.  
“But then, I never did ask what it would do to a human.”

“I think we're gonna find out!” you giggled. You leaned into him, almost purring when he wrapped his arms around you. You almost missed the protective glance he gave you.  
“You are very pretty, do you know?”

“You've never told me.” he preened.

“Your lips are so beautiful. I wanna kiss 'em. Can I?”

He caught your cheeks in his hands, holding your head steady. You hadn't realized until then that you were swaying just a little bit. He leaned in closely, and you felt your mouth water. You were just about to purse your lips when he froze.

“No, I don't think so darling.”

“What? Why?” you cried, feeling hurt and embarrassed.

“Don't look at me like that, I can't take it.” he cuddled you close suddenly, nuzzled at your cheek.  
“You can't kiss me because I'm afraid that you're drunk.”

“Drunk? I think I would know if I was drunk.” you snorted. You went to spin on your heel and stumbled. He gracefully caught your elbow before you could go down.

“It's time to go home.” he said brightly.

“Are we done dancing?” you felt a little disappointed and happy. You could finally get these shoes off.

“For now.” he gave you a bright smile as he steered you towards the exit, brushing off a few admiring folks. You fussed with the hem of your dress, trying to pull it down further as you stepped out in to the dark of the night.

“But are you sure you don't wanna kiss?”

“Oh, I want nothing more.” he said warily, looking up and down the street. “I'm afraid that you're in no state of mind to consent to that. I won't have kisses from you stolen.” he sounded angry.

“Are you mad at me?” you whimpered.

“What? No! No, of course not.” he squeezed your hand and began walking away from the club, the line and the scent of alcohol and desire leaving you quickly. “I had an amazing time with you. I just didn't realize that would happen to you.”

“We could have kissed if you'd bought me water.”

“Truly, no one regrets that more than me, precious.”

You carefully picked your way on the sidewalk, wobbling in the shoes. You thought about taking them off, but that would mean bending over. No way that was gonna happen in this dress. You just tripped happily along, clinging to Asmodeus' arm as you went. 

You looked at him then, really looked at him. You realized that he had selected his outfit to complement your own. Your make up almost matched. You must have been quite a sight out there, dancing together like you were, bodies entwined. You paused.

“You wanted me to be pretty like you!”

“Hm?” he glanced over at you. “You're already pretty. Not as pretty as I am, of course. But you're up there. You and that cute little butt of yours.”

“But our outfits.”

“Oh! Well yes, I did think it would look nice. I was hoping we'd catch a few glances, you know.” he waggled his eyebrow, seemingly thrilled when you giggled.

“I never dress like this.” you gestured to the outfit. “Too tight. My boobs, you know?” you didn't think you were making sense, but he nodded.

“They're a centerpiece, darling!”

And that was when the world seemed to tip. One moment, you were looking at Asmo, opening your mouth to ask if he thought about your boobs a lot. And then you were looking at the cement. It hurt in a way that made you faintly aware of the fact that it was going to hurt even more tomorrow.

Your hands scrambled to the back of your dress, checking to make sure your underwear wasn't showing. Asmo had insisted on a scanty, lacy pink pair. Promised you there would be no visible panty lines. At the time, turning bright red, you had acquiesed simply to stop the conversation. Now you would have loved a pair of boxer shorts, or anything other than what you had on.

But, thankfully, no one seemed to be around. And your panties weren't showing. 

“Dearest! Are you all right?” He was kneeling down, trying to help you up. No easy feat in those shoes. He somehow managed to get you upright. You whimpered softly and felt your face, knowing there was already swelling.  
“Oh, oh, oh! Look at your beautiful face!”

“Is it bad?” you whimpered. The fact that he hesitated a moment told you all you needed to know. You wanted to cry, but felt like that would hurt the burning spot on your cheekbone. You were certain you'd have a black eye tomorrow.

“That's quite enough of that.” Asmo suddenly reached out and picked you up, locking your knees around his waist. You buried your face in his shoulder.  
“Don't cry, precious. It's completely my fault. You'll just break my heart if you cry. You're too pretty to cry.”

His hands cupped under your butt. You wondered faintly if that was the reason for the particular way he chose to carry you. But, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you decided to leave your commentary to yourself. 

It was a surprise that Asmo was this strong. You expected it from Beel, certainly. Lucifer too, he looked like he could swing some weight. But Asmo was so delicate, so very lovely. He never really seemed the type to be able to manage it.

But here you were, cradled against his chest. It felt lovely. One hand played idly in his hair, not caring if you were messing with the style of it. He laughed softly as he headed up the steps of the House of Lamentation.

“My poor darling.” he cooed. “We'll get you comfortable and put some ice on your face.”

“Aren't I too heavy for you?” 

“Is this the part where I tell you you're thin?” he joked. “You forget I am a lord of the Devildom, dearest. I am a very high ranking demon. Don't let my appearance fool you.” he gave your butt a squeeze, thoroughly enjoying the way it made you squeal.

He paused outside your room, and continued to his own.

“I think it's best if you stay with me tonight.”

“Sleepover?” you mumbled, already feeling like dozing off.

“Something like that.”

He laid you on his bed and began to unlace those wretched shoes. You hummed happily as he rubbed your calves for a minute, examining the markings the laces left. It was beautiful, he thought. How would you look if you'd been tied up in other places?

He peeled you out of the dress. Before you could hunch over in an attempt to cover all that flesh, he was pulling a t shirt over your head, coaxing your hips up so he could ease on a pair of silky boxer shorts. You flopped against the pillows as he went to the bathroom.

You were nearly asleep when he returned, wearing his own pajamas. He smoothly removed your make up and applied a moisturizer. Leave it to Asmo, you thought. He would be the one worried about your skin. You winced when he brushed over your right eye and cheekbone.

“I know, dearest, I know.” he kissed your forehead. “I'll get you some ice in just one minute.”

He darted out of the room and came back, gently placing an ice pack to your eye. He shushed you when you whined at the cold feeling. He pulled back the blanket and crawled into bed with you, snuggling you close.

“Try and sleep. You'll feel better in the morning.”

It was nice in his bed, you thought. So fluffy, so comfortable. And being snuggled was a bonus. You were asleep before you could even think another thought.

You were awoken the next morning by angry shouting outside his door. You dragged yourself out of bed, making a face at the sour taste in your mouth. Your head and face were throbbing. But if you focused, you could just make out the words.

“Seven drinks is enough to get almost anyone drunk!” Lucifer was growling. “Even if it was just goldenglow dew. To say nothing of the fact she is a human!”

“Well what else was I supposed to give her?” Asmo whined. “I didn't want her to be dehydrated and overheated from dancing.”

“Did it ever cross your mind to give that poor girl a bottle of water?” you could almost see Lucifer pinching his temples. “Did you ever think that might be a better idea?”

“She... might have mentioned that.” he sounded sheepish. “But it looked so gorgeous with her dress, and she was having a wonderful time.”

“Just—get out of my sight.” 

You heard Asmo scurry away. You swung the door open to explain. But the light from the hall burned your eyes and made you wine. Lucifer turned to look at you and then gasped. His chin gently caught your chin, titled your face from one side to the other. Evidently, the ice had not done all you hoped it would do.

“What happened to your face?” his voice was slightly softer with you than normal. “Did someone hit you?”

“Hit me? No! Of course not!” speaking loudly made you cringe. You wanted to put your hands on either side of your head to keep it from splitting apart.  
“I fell walking home last night. I hit the sidewalk. What a klutz, right?”

“I see.” he said tightly. “Go lay down in your own bed. I will send in some breakfast and something for your pain.”

Without an squeak of protest, you headed for your room, one hand against the wall for support. You had barely shut the door when you heard Lucifer's voice explode.

“ASMODEUS! You had better have an explanation!”


	3. How I Miss You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You may or may not have convinced Satan to take you somewhere you ought not bed. Rickety ladders suck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could not climb a ladder that high. Newp.

“There is nothing there at would interest you.” Satan exhaled sharply through his nose.

“You don't know that.” you shot back. “Come on, please, Satan? Pretty please?” usually, all you had to do to get your way was flutter your eyelashes and ask sweetly. The boys would cave, bend to give you anything you wanted.

To be fair, typically you didn't want anything especially harmful.

“I don't think so.” he put his book back up to his face, letting you know the conversation had ended. You sidled up to him, scooting close to him on the couch. You saw the pink rising up in his cheeks, and knew that you were on the right track.

“Please?” you rested your cheek against his shoulder. 

“You are the most infuriating little human.” he growled. You knew his bark was worse than his bite.

“Lucifer said the same thing.”

“Did he.” he wasn't really a question.

“He also said under no circumstances should I go to the library. And we probably out to listen to him. Shouldn't we?” you knew that you were baiting him, a little bit. You knew that he hated whatever Lucifer said. You knew he loved to defy him.

Sure enough, his nostrils flared. There it was, you thought smugly. You knew you'd hit the button in that moment. But you gave an innocent wave and headed for the door. Your hand hadn't even touched the doorknob before Satan spoke.

“He can't tell me what to do.” he seethed. “Get your coat. We're going to the library.”

It wasn't that you weren't allowed in the library. You were always welcome. There was just that one section that had been forbidden to you. In truth, you had the feeling it was forbidden to most. Lucifer had made some veiled comments that it had some dangerous books.

Dangerous how, you wondered. Did they bite? Did they just have spooky spells? Anything was likely around here. You barely contained your excitement as you almost skipped next to Satan, heading down the street to the library.

“You can't tell anyone that we were here.” he warned, one green fingernail pointing towards you as you headed to the door.

“As if I would.” you smiley coyly.

“Just making that perfectly clear.” he muttered as he opened the door. “Was there anything in particular you were looking for?”

“Not really.” you shrugged. “I just wanted to see for myself.”

“I can respect a desire for knowledge.” he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulled you in close as you crept through the dusty library. Demons glided through the shadows. Books being pulled off the shelves, leafed through, put back. 

It almost had the air of the libraries at home. It gave you a sense of calm, such as you always had when surrounded by books. It didn't matter that the vast majority of these were in a language that you couldn't understand. You let yourself enjoy being close to Satan, feeling the brush of his sweater against your bare arms as you walked to the forbidden section.

“You had better be careful. I don't want to deal with getting in trouble if you get hurt.” Satan warned. You gave a tiny smile, knowing that this was really his way of saying that he didn't want to see you get hurt. 

You took a candle from the large candelabra and headed into the stacks. Satan stayed some distance behind you. You could tell he was keeping one gleaming green eye on you while also browsing himself. It wouldn't be long, you realized, until he lost track of you altogether. Better not stray too far from him, you really didn't want anything bad to happen.

You wandered slowly, letting your eyes trace over the ancient lettering. You knew better than to read anything out loud, Solomon had warned you of that.

“Never ever say the name of anything you don't understand. You don't know what it'll mean to anyone. Promise me, okay?”

You reached out to let your finger run down a spine or two, the raised lettering causing goosebumps down your arm. Solomon had always taught you to back away and not touch anything that just gave you a general bad feeling, and there were a few that felt like fire when you stepped too close. You weren't as stupid as you looked, and gave them a wide berth.

And then, there was a the ladder.

The ladder, with flaking paint and a layer of dust seemed to beckon to you. Surely, if the books down here were so tantalizing, there must be something even better where that was going. You knew better than to try and climb a ladder with a lit candle in your hand. You set it down on one of the shelves and began to climb.

The ladder creaked and groaned under your weight. You held your breath, afraid that it was going to collapse into a pile of splinters. You were afraid to go too fast, lest the sudden shift in weight bring on destruction.

It got darker and darker the higher up you went. You squinted in the dim, peering at the shelves. At least, you seemed to be at the top. You were almost giddy with your accomplishment. The shelves, such as they were here in the shadows, seemed to beckon to you. Your hand shook a little as you reached out to grasp a book.

There was only cold, dead air. 

You froze, clinging to that ladder. This didn't seem possible. After all that climbing, seeing these shelves. There was nothing? It was empty? You leaned as far as you dared, the ladder creaking a warning. There was, indeed, nothing here. 

“Only in freaking Devildom!” you sighed. It was then that you felt a give in the wood holding you up. Tremulously, you looked down. You felt more than heard the cracking. Quick as you could, you skittered to hold onto the empty shelves. 

Just in the time. The whole thing collapsed with a sick bang and a puff of dust and splinters, and probably even the ghost of the carpenter who made the damn thing. You exhaled as carefully as you could, trying to still the pounding in your chest and the ignore the way your thighs has begun to quake.

The dust tickled your nose, but you willed yourself not to sneeze and you cowered as close to the wood as you could. Of course the shelves were much too wide for you to be able to clamber down. The wood was slick, smooth. The sweat on your fingertips made it hard for you to grip. You didn't dare turn your head to look down. 

This was quite a predicament. You couldn't even reach your DDD to try and text Satan. You could only grasp on as best you could and hope that pile of rubble from the ladder would be enough to cushion most of your fall.

“What are you doing up there!?!” an almost frantic cry. It would be scary if you couldn't hear the sheer fear there in that tone. 

“Please help!” you squeaked out.

You must have sounded frightened enough. You heard rustling, the sound of his boots hitting the shelves. It only took a few moments before he was next to you, glaring at you. His aura glimmered, and sweat rolled down your back.

For a moment, you contemplated whether or not it would be less painful to let go and just fall. You knew he wanted to rip you apart.

“You are, without a doubt, the biggest pain in my ass. You are worse than Mammon. You are reckless, you are an idiot, you are the most aggravating being I have ever known in my entire life. Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?”

“I might have an inkling?” you rasped out. “How am I gonna get down?”

“Calm down.” he looked a little ashamed of himself. You realized then that he hadn't meant to scare you so much. He'd just wanted you to know how angry he was, and that he was angry because he was afraid, too. But one of you had to keep your head together during this mess.  
“Here,” he moved on arm away from the shelves.

You inched your way over to him, cautiously winding an arm around his neck. He adjusted you until your legs were around his thighs. With one arm around you, and one arm on the shelves, he began to work his way down.

You kept a death grip on him, trembling slightly against him. When your feet were firmly on the floor, you wobbled, worrying for a second that you might faint. But he caught both of your shoulders with his hands, holding you tightly. The moment passed, and relief crossed his face.

Quickly replaced with outrage.

“Are you that dumb?”

“I—I didn't know that it was going to collapse like that.” you cringed.

“Which is exactly why I told you not to go too far from me, and why I thought you knew better than to climb something here in Devildom.” he shook you slightly. “Don't you understand?”

“I do,” your voice cracked and your eyes watered, your cheeks burning. “It was stupid, I'm sorry.”

“Not as sorry as you'll be once Lucifer finds out about that broken ladder.” he sighed bitterly. “And not as sorry as I'm going to be once he finds out that I was the one who brought you here.”

“But I asked you to.” you swiped at your eyes with the back of your hand. 

“Doesn't matter. I obviously was supposed to be the brains of this operation.”

You stood for a moment, shaking in the dust of the library, the crumbled remains of the damned ladder behind you. You couldn't stop the tears this time. There was nothing for a heartbeat. Satan reached out and wrapped and his arms around you, crushing you to him.

“You're an idiot,” he mumbled into your hair. “I can tell I'm going to have to be around to keep you out of trouble. More work for me.”

He picked you up then. You were expecting a cuddle. Instead, he threw you over his shoulder, your arms dangling down his back. You squealed a protest, which only earned you a pinch on the thigh.

“Be still.” he grumbled. “If I can't trust you to act any better than a child, I'll treat you like a child. You're lucky I don't put you over my knee.”

Well, that had some promise to it, you thought as you bounced along on his shoulder. There was a lot to consider there, and it was perhaps best explored when you were alone in your bed that night. Before you could turn the thought over in your mind again, his hand came and rubbed at the spot he'd pinched, and you could feel the apology there.

The only sound was his breathing until you got back to the House of Lamentation. He set you down on the floor with a certain amount of gentle that you hadn't expected. He cleared your hair out of your eyes, cupping your cheeks in his hands.

Before he could speak, there was a delicate throat clearing behind you. You cringed before turning to see Lucifer, standing with arms crossed.

“Would you two care to tell me about the broken antique ladder?” he quirked a brow.


	4. But There's Something Eating At Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An accident in the kitchen reveals a weakness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one time, I was using a butter knife to slice myself up a tomato. I wasn't careful, met resistance and sawed back and forth. In short order, I had taken a nice little chunk out of my finger. WITH A BUTTER KNIFE! Like a giant idiot.
> 
> Also, you should see me at the dentist. It's seriously bad.

“It's so kind of you to help me.” you beamed at Beel as he strained the pasta into the colander. He just gave you one of his warm smiles. You were certain that he was more than happy to help in the kitchen because there was always the chance at snacks. 

But you were happy to give him morsels and tidbits. It kept him happy, after all, and there was a part of you that just enjoyed feeding people. You mused on that as you retrieved the vegetables to chop up. You wanted to make something like a pasta and veggie dish. Of course, nothing here was quite the same as home, but you hoped you had picked a decent blend. And there was an approximation of tomato sauce, so that should cover a multitude of sins.

“Do you think we should add more salt to this?” Beel held out a spoon of sauce. He cupped his hand under your chin to let you have a small taste.

“Mmm, maybe.” you said thoughtfully. You watched him stirring the pot and chewed your lower lip. “It doesn't taste exactly like it does at home. Maybe we're missing something, although I can't think of it. Can you?”

Beelzebub opened his mouth to respond. You knife was still chopping through the vegetables, but you weren't watching. It was something you'd done a million times after all. You knew it was a little careless, but you hadn't lost a finger yet!

“I think it tastes perfect.” You turned then, still holding the knife, almost forgetting it was there. You wanted to ask him if he was sure about that when you slipped on a few drops of the tomato sauce. Landing hard on your butt didn't hurt too bad, other than the bruise on your ego.

The way you flailed your arms before going down hurt more. The way the knife caught the skin of your inner arm hurt even more. With a cry, you dropped the knife with a clatter and gripped your arm. Wincing, you dared to peek. It wasn't a large cut, but it was deep. Blood quickly oozed down your arms, so you clamped your hand back on.

“Are you okay?” Beel was kneeling by your side in an instant.

“It's fine!” you said with false cheer. “It's just a little scratch. It startled myself more than anything. Will you start the tap, Beel? I want to rinse it really quick.”

“I smell blood.” he was frowning, reaching for your arm. You hissed and drew away from him.

“Please, just start the water?” you pleaded.

He stood and turned on the faucet in the kitchen sink. At least that was empty of dishes, you thought. Easier to scrub out an empty sink than have to sterilize every dish in it. He helped you to your feet and watched as you reluctantly peeled your fingers back from the cut.

He sucked in his breath, and you watched him out of the corner of your eyes. His gaze was one part afraid and one part hungry. Hazily, you recalled Lucifer warning you that blood smelled delicious to demons, and probably especially to someone like Beel who was always hungry. Well, that was something to consider, you thought to yourself. Perhaps you'd be better served sending him away to get some towels or bandages.

“Let me see.” he demanded.

“It's fine!” you felt panic rising in your throat. “Please, will you get some bandages.”

“No,” for once, his voice was firm. Gentle, but firm. “Let me see.”

More than just slightly worried that he was going to take a bite out of you, you held out your shaking arm. One hand wrapped easily around your wrist, like it was nothing to him. The other held your elbow steady. He studied the wound for a minute, frowned at the blood that was still streaming out. He released your elbow to snatch one of the kitchen towels draped over the oven door handle.

You tried to wriggle free of his grip, but he gave you a squeeze. Be still, the squeeze said. You wanted to whine, it was so unusual Beel made demands like this. He was usually content to let you do whatever you wanted, whether that was crawling to sit on his lap during movie nights, or squirreling through his wardrobe for an extra large hoodie to wear for a few days while yours was in the wash. He never complained.

“We gotta see Lucifer about this.”

“No, we don't!” you said too quickly. 

“Are you embarrassed you got hurt?” he looked incredibly sad for a moment. “It was my fault, I'll tell them that. I spilled the sauce a little bit.”

“No, it's not that.” you were trying to soothe him then, hardly noticing as he pressed the towel to your arm in an effort to staunch the bleeding. It was turning red much too quickly for his liking.  
“I just don't want to make a fuss.”

“There's no fuss to make when you're hurt like this. Come on, please come with me?” he tried to wrap an arm around you, carefully tucking you to his side while he kept pressure on the cut.

“No!” you struggled away. Beelzebub was so shocked, you were able to wriggle away. He looked hurt. You'd never denied a touch from him before.  
“I don't want to.”

“You need stitches.”

“And that's why we're not going. Now, you can either go and get me some bandages, or I can go and get them myself. But we're not going to show Lucifer or anyone else. So what's it going to be, Beelzebub?”

He frowned then and crossed his arms. He stepped towards your, and you shrank back against the countertop. You tried to keep your back straight, but your shoulders were hunching in.

“We can do this two ways.” he said softly. “You can either walk to Lucifer on your own two feet, or I carry you. What do you want to do?”

“You can't make me!”

“I don't want to. But I will. It's dangerous to bleed here, and it's a bad cut. I gotta keep you safe.” when you tried to dodge around him (stupid, you knew, he was much too large for you to be able to duck around, and too quick for all he was large. He was the most athletic brother), he snatched you around the waist.  
“Your choice, babe.” 

He hoisted you up, your chest against his. He held you easily around the middle while you kicked and flailed with your good arm. You at least had the sense to keep your bad arm between the two of you, lest you bump it. It was beginning to hurt more than you thought it could. You started to feel just a little woozy, although that oculd have been from your own upset.

“I am not a child! Put me down right this second, Beelzebub!”

“Nope, you lost the chance.” he said grimly as he headed towards Lucifer's study. Tears leapt unbidden into your eyes, so you tried another tactic.

“We can go right to the bathroom, I'll let you bandage me up. Please, please, don't! I'll be careful, I'll elevate it. Please do not make me.”

He didn't even respond, although one hand did rub soothingly at your back. You were at Lucifer's office quicker than you'd thought possible, and he gave the door one simple click.

“Beelzebub, what exactly--. What happened?” his words started angry and quickly turned fearful. He was at your side in a moment.

“She slipped with the knife.” Beel managed over your sobs and the sound of you struggling out of his arms. “I said she had to see you, I think she needs stitches. She freaked out.”

“Sit down with her.” he nodded to his big armchair. “We'll see what the damage is.” his face was serious as he closed the door and headed to gather a small first aid kit from under his desk.

“Please, just let go.” you were begging. “I do not want to be here. I cannot do this. Please?”

“It's all right.” Beel's voice was in your ear. He sat easily in the chair, one leg pinning yours down. He held your back to his chest, one arm pinning down your good arm, the other holding the bad arm out.  
“It's going to be okay. Lucifer will know exactly what to do.”

“You don't understand.” a cold sweat broke out over your forehead. “I really cannot. Please, Beel?”

He only rocked you side to side in the chair a little bit. You were aware of his warmth around you. You wondered, faintly, if he could hear the thudding of your heat. He pressed his cheek to the side of your head. It seemed like he was trying to surround you in his calm.

Lucifer pulled up a stood and took your wrist in his hand. Even though he wasn't quite as large as Beel, you knew you didn't have a chance at breaking his grip, either. You whimpered helpless, screwing your eyes shut as he gently peeled off the towel.

“That is deep.” he said with some appreciation. “Keep her still for another moment, please.”

Beel obliged, rubbing your upper arm. He hummed ever so lightly in your ear as you continued to whimper, small sobs breathing through. Lucifer opened the kit and began to apply antispetic to the cut. He frowned after a moment or two of work.

“I'm afraid Beel's assessment is correct, my dear.” he raised his voice just a little, to talk over your distress. “You're going to need stitches.”

“I can't!” you practically screamed. “I cannot do that, please, please just put a bandage on it and let me leave. Please?”

“Whatever is the problem?” he sat back, his hands flat on his lap. “Don't tell me that the girl who made pacts with seven of the most powerful demons in Devildom is afraid of needles.” he was trying to keep his tone light, almost teasing. But when he saw the obvious misery on your face, he realized.  
“You are.”

“Isn't there any other way?” you implored. But Lucifer only looked past you to Beel. You didn't know exactly what he was saying with his arms, but the iron grip on you tightened. You hadn't considered that it was possible.  
“I don't care about scarring!” you were reaching an almost hysterical pitch.

“No, dearest.” Lucifer looked gently at you as he pulled on a pair of gloves from the kit. “This isn't about scarring. The wound is too deep. It won't take many stitches, and I will be as quick as I can. I promise you that.”

You nearly melted into a puddle of woe. You leaned hard into Beelzebub, turning your head to hide your face in his neck. He just adjusted you ever so slightly. He just rocked ever so slightly, trying to distract you from the rustling of the first aid kit.

When a cold wipe was swiped down your skin, you howled, muffled by the giant who cradled you. He held you steady, but nuzzled his head against you.

“It's all right.” he murmured. “It's okay.”

“It is not!” you insisted. “I cannot stand this.”

“Just for one minute. For me. I know you can do it for one minute. Okay?”

You didn't respond, but dared to peek. Lucifer was holding your arm and position the needle for the first stitch. It was torture when you felt it pierce your skin. Even though you knew you were being irrational and dramatic, you couldn't help but scream. 

“Can't you numb her?” Beelzebub asked, sounding just a little desperate.

“I'd have to give her an injection to do that. We'd go through this all over again. I thought it best to get it done.” he sounded equally unhappy with the situation, but resolved to see it through. Your good hand clutched at Beel's shirt.

In truth, it was only a minute or two, but it felt like hours. Your head was spinning by the time Lucifer was able to back away and pack up the materials. He peeled off the gloves, and you saw then that he had rolled his sleeves up. Later, you would realize there was sweat across his forehead, too. There was a bit of gauze taped to your arm. 

Beelzebub quickly spun you around. You straddled his lap, you gathered fistfuls of his shirt and buried your face in his chest to sob. He rocked back and forth, running those giant hands up and down your back. He didn't try and hush you, didn't tell you that you were being silly. He just let you keep crying.

“You did a remarkable job getting her to me, Beelzebub. Well done,” Lucifer praised softly. The red head only shrugged and cuddled you in closer.

“My fault she slipped.” he mumbled. 

“Don't worry about it. I'm sure it was an accident.” he gave him an approving nod and moved to throw the towel in the trash.  
“Take her to bed. I'll have someone bring a tray of dinner and water for you.”

“I'm taking her to my room.” 

“As you wish.”

You were only faintly aware of the conversation. Beel was standing up then. Your legs draped over one arm, your torso stayed upright over his chest. You wound your arms around his neck, keeping your face buried. You really didn't want to look at anyone right now. You knew later you'd come back to apologize to Lucifer, to thank him for sewing you back up. But right now everything was too much. You didn't want anything but the feeling of Beel's body moving down the hall, and his smell, sharp and heavy as he headed towards his room.

“I heard screams.” Asmo's door opened. “Is everything okay?”

“I'll text you.” Beelzebub said in a hushed voice. You could almost see Asmo pause. “She's okay, Asmo, it's fine. She just needs rest.”

He bumped his bedroom door closed with a hip. His room was still and quiet. Belphegor wasn't in his bed, and you wondered if he'd gone to finish fixing dinner, which you were sure was burned beyond recognition now. He laid you down in his bed. But as he went to pull away, you tightened your grip around his neck.

“I will be right back. I only want a cold cloth for your forehead.” he said softly, pressing his forehead to yours. You were aware them of how hot and sticky your face felt. You were sure it was a mess of tears.

You let him go, and true to his word he was back in just a minute. He sat next to you and wiped your face clean, then folded it into a neat oblong to let lay on your forehead. He pushed your hair back from your face, let his knuckles run down your cheek.

“Are you okay?”

“I'm sorry,” You responded, as though that was the real answer to his question. “I know that was ridiculous.”

“I didn't know you were afraid of needles.”

“I don't exactly advertise it. I'm able to avoid them most of the time.” you knew you were blushing. “I didn't mean to scream like that or smack at your to get put down. I apologize.”

“You were just scared.” he gave you a soft smile. Boldly, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Just rest, okay.”

There was a knock them, and he answered. He spoke to someone for a moment, and came in hefting a large tray of sandwiches with a few bottles of water. You expected him to tuck in, instead he uncapped some water and held your head up to take a drink.

“Thank you.” you mumbled, feeling your eyes start to get heavy. Your heartrate had returned to normal, and your arm only ached a little bit.

“I'll be right here.” he kicked off his shoes and moved you over to lounge in bed next to you. He flicked on the TV and turned the volume down. You never much cared for trying to follow the sports channel in the Devildom, so it was nothing more than background noise to you.

You wormed your way up until your head was resting against his chest. He wrapped an arm around you, rubbing absently at your hair. He even turned his head to the side to keep crumbs from dripping on you as he inhaled the sandwiches. You burrowed into his side and let that feeling of safety wash over your as your eyes drifted shut again.

The apology to Lucifer was going to be embarrassing, so you wanted to rest well for that.


	5. Your Heart Is On the Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi invites you out to a concert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I was tall.

Your DDD buzzed as you were putting a few folded items in the dresser. You snatched it and flopped belly down, letting your legs kick in the air idly.

Levi: What are you doing?

You: Finished putting away my laundry. Might paint my nails. Why?

Levi: You wanna go out? 

Out? That was an interesting idea from Levi. He normally never even left his room, let alone the House of Lamentation. The typing bubbles appeared at the bottom of the chat, so you waited before formulating your response.

Levi: I know, it's gross. It's just that I won two tickets to that band that does the video game covers. You don't have to go. I know you probably won't like it. I just thought that you might want to. I know you like music, even if it is just video game music.

Levi: Please say something.

Levi: Even if it's no.

Levi: Wait, don't say no.

Levi: Forget I said anything.

You: I would love to! There's only one problem.

Levi: What's that?

You: It's a school night. Lucifer said you weren't allowed out anymore.

Levi: Lololol, no. I seem to recall him telling that to Mammon and Asmodeus.

You thought back to the recent conversation that Lucifer had hollered across the dinner table at the two demons. He was stabbing at their report cards with his finger. Dinner hadn't quite started, so you had strolled into the dining room and heard the shouts.

You had slowly backed out of the room, deciding that whatever this conversation was, you really didn't need to be part of it. The others had had a similar thought and ate snacks in the living room. That didn't do much to dampen the shouts and protests coming from the dining room though.

At the end of it all, the group chat had buzzed.

“We will be staying in on school nights until grades improve.” Lucifer's curt text said.

You: I'm not sure, Levi.

Levi: Our grades are already high, aren't they?

That was true. You and Levi had some of the best marks. Satan beat you all, of course, but that didn't mean you were slacking. You just shrugged.

You: If you're sure. 

Levi: Get ready. We leave in ten.

You pulled on some denim shorts, high tops, a sleeveless top. A quick smuding of lip gloss and a few flicks of your comb and you were ready. Just as you put the comb down, there was a tapping at your door. Levi was standing there, blushing, not quite meeting you in the eye.

“H-hey,” he stammered.

“Hi,” you beamed. “Ready?” you slung your purse over your shoulder. He nodded and glanced down the hall. Was he worried someone would see you leave? Or was he worried someone would see you leave with him?

“Come on!” he grabbed your hand quickly. “Let's go. I—I don't wanna be late.” the tips of his ears were red as he dragged you down the hall and out the door quickly, before you could even ask him where the concert was.

Once you were safely outside, he slowed his pace, so you weren't tripping over him. But he didn't let go of your hand.

“I'm not going to waste my time looking around for you. I better hold onto you so you don't get lost.” he mumbled, when you glanced down at your hands, swinging between the two of you. You just smiled faintly and didn't say anything. Of course Leviathan wouldn't be able to come out and say he wanted to hold your had. Too afraid of that rejection.

The venue wasn't far. You had been afraid you were over or under dressed, but everyone else was in casual clothes. A few tshirts for video games here and there. Levi beamed and scrambled to get up front towards where the band would be playing. He was practically vibrating with excitement, telling you how glad he was to get these tickets, and even how happy he was that you had been able to come with him.

“I'm glad I could come, too, Levi.” you put a hand on his shoulder. To your surprise, he didn't shrink away. He didn't say anything about 'normie germs'. He just turned pink and let his   
eyes focus on the stage. A few seconds later, the band came out.

You couldn't say that you knew that much about the music or the band. Levi and most of the others seemed to be enjoying it, cheering or singing along. You swaying in time to the music, happy to be out. Your shoulders brushed together, and he kept glancing over at your, smiling wider and wider every time.

The crowd surged around you, and you were forced away from the stage. You stepped closer to Levi and realized you couldn't see the show anymore. It wasn't the end of the world, you thought. There were obviously people here who wanted to see it more than you.

You were shoved then, stumbling into Levi. He caught you easier and glared at the shover. You caught his eye and shook your head. Not worth a fight, you tried to say with your eyes. Go back to having fun.

Levi looked at you for a minute, tilting his head to the side. He grabbed your wrist and dragged you towards the back of the venue.

“Getting a little stuffy up there.” he said in your ear. You nodded, glad to not be crushed towards the stage. Breathing room was always nice. Levi took a deep breath and knelt down. Awkwardly, he dragged you over and grabbed your thighs. Before you could ask the question, his head was between your legs and he was standing up.

You squealed, your hands sinking into his hair. His hands gripped your knees, rubbing slightly. From here, you could see the whole you. You were convinced you had the best seat in the show. You shouted and whistled, enjoying it immensely. Levi glanced at his watch then and started to head for the door, wading through the crowd.

“They're still playing!” you shouted down.

“I wanna beat the crowd getting out of here.” he called up. 

“You could put me down.”

“You'll get lost.”

You didn't argue. It was nice to feel so tall for one in your life. You wondered if this was how Beel felt all the time. Levi carried you back to the House of Lamentation.

“It was a nice show.”

“The best, wasn't it?” his joy left a warm feeling inside you. “Thanks for coming. I know that's probably not the type of thing you're really interested in.”

“I was interested in having time with you.” you squeezed a little with your thighs. He laughed. You sank your fingers back into his hair, rubbing at his scalp as he walked up the steps.  
“I had a wonderful time.”

“Maybe we should do it again sometime. I-if you're interested. And don't have anything better to do.” he let his hands rest on your calves as he peered up at you. You bent down to speak to him, your hair hanging over the two of you like a curtain.

“That sounds great.”

“It certainly does.” a voice came from somewhere in front of you. Levi screamed and threw you off. You would have tumbled straight to the floor if a pair of gloved hands hadn't deftly caught you and set you on your feet. Face burning, you brushed your hair out of your eyes and saw Lucifer. He looked between the two of you, eyebrows raised.  
“I would not have guessed that the two of you would get into trouble.”

“We're in trouble?” you blinked. “I must be confused.”

“Levi? Was I not clear in my text earlier? Lock down on school nights?” Lucifer shook his head.

“This is how I die.” Levi squeaked. “I want all my stuff to go to her.”

“You texted Levi?” you looked between the two of them. “He said that--, oh.” you gulped.

“As you appear to be perhaps have been a bystander in this, you may go to bed.” Lucifer nodded at you. You knew the deal, he was telling you to get your ass to bed and get it there this second.   
“But make no mistake.” he held up a finger. “You and I will be having a discussion immediately after breakfast.”

You gave Levi a sympathetic glance as you high tailed it out of there. The last glance was Lucifer with arms crossed, and the other demon looking like he wanted to sink into the floor.


	6. The Purest Expression of Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A midnight stroll with Belphegor

The night was crisp and cool, for once. Everyone had told you had unusual that was in Devildom. They had seasons, but not quite as extreme as what you were used to. You wondered if they called it seasons to give everyone a reason to trot out different clothes.

The house was still and quiet for once. Lucifer wasn't even awake doing paperwork. Levi's room was dark and silent. You smiled as you headed towards the door, closing it as quietly as possible. You only wanted to feel the cold air around you for awhile.

You wandered the grass a bit, down towards the flowers Lucifer loved so well. You lifted your arms faintly, letting your head loll back. You breathed in deeply the strange perfume of all the plants. It wasn't like anything at home, and you still wanted to roll around in it. You wanted to bathe in it, and smell like this forever, tantalizing and exotic.

“What are you doing?” you jumped almost a mile.

“Belphie!” you scolded. “Don't startle me.”

“Sorry.” he smiled softly and pushed some hair behind his ear. “What are you doing?”

“I just wanted to feel the air.” you were aware of the goosebumps rising on your arms, and you loved it. A soft wind picked up, lifting the ends of your hair.

“It's cold out.” he frowned. “You'll get sick and then I'll get in trouble. You'd better come inside.”

“Just a few more minutes.” you begged. You turned to observe the flowers again, watching the glowing insects flit from one to the other.  
“They bloom at night?”

“Some of them.” he shrugged. 

“They're like moonflowers.” you murmured, walking along them, your fingers touching one here and there.

Belphegor sat on the ground, his knees pulled up to his chin. His face was a blank, and you couldn't even begin to try and guess what he was thinking of. Maybe that wasn't something you were meant to question. You bent to smell a flower in the garden, smiling at it's sweet fragrance.

“Do you want to see something really cool?” Belphegor said suddenly.

“Yes!” you beamed. He gave a real smile then, slow and warm. An explosion of butterflies began in the pit of your stomach.

“It's a little walk, and it's late.” he warned.

“I don't care.” you shrugged.

He hoisted himself off the ground and began down a path in the garden that you had overlooked. He didn't glance over his shoulder to make sure you were following. You had to trot to keep up. You wanted to ask him where you were going, what was there to see, and what his favorite flower was. But the faint curve of your lips kept you silent.

He didn't look unhappy, at least, you thought. Perhaps the most frustrating thing about Belphegor was that you could never tell what he was really thinking. He wasn't so open as Beel, he wasn't as predictable as Mammon. You couldn't take a guess. You had to open him up, but he was so good at freezing everyone out. Everyone except for Beel.

“Whoa!” he threw an arm out, stopping you cold. You nearly fell over. “See?” 

You squinted in the dim and saw a long vine on the path. He stepped over it and held out a hand to you, carefully helping you over.

“It's devil's snare. Even if I can unwind you alone, so mind where you're going.”

He didn't drop your hand.

“We're almost there.” he seemed excited. In a few minutes, he smiled and beckoned with his finger. You peered through a bush and gasped.

A whole field of glowing bugs, rather like the fireflies at home. Instead of glowing green, these ones glowed red. It should have been scary, you mused. Instead, it reminded you of the embers at the end of a bonfire.

“It's amazing.” you breathed.

“Thought you'd be impressed. Stay here.” he slipped out of the brush and caught a few, bringing them back for you to examine. You bent close to watch the bugs flickering. One by one, they flew away, drifting up towards the sky, where they could almost be mistaken for stars if you weren't looking carefully.  
“Here,” he held out a cupped palm with one left.

You reached out and gently covered his hand with yours, wrists pressing together. You left your palms cupped, the glow of the bug lighting up your skin and coming through the cracks. You let your fingers press together, keeping the bug there for a moment.

Your eyes locked, and for one moment, you were sure that your hearts were beating in sync. Without blinking, you slowly let your hands open, like blooming. The bug flew up towards the sky, like the others.

Your palms came back together, your fingers twinging as you stared out at the field. Belphegor stood close to you, watching you watching. After a little while, he tugged at your hand and began to lead you back down the garden path.

“It was always my favorite.” he said softly. “It was always what I looked for when I couldn't sleep. There have been a lot of sleepless nights since you've come.”

“Why?” you asked softly, brow furrowed.

“Because I can't stop thinking about you.”

You wanted to ask him why, keep probing. He stopped dead on the path though and looked at you sharply. He looked you up and down and tucked you neatly under his arm before he kept walking.

“Hey!”

“Too much devil's snare.” he muttered. 

You bounced along. For a moment, you wished he'd at least pick you up properly. He could carry you bridal style, or on his back. Even over his shoulder might be better than this, you felt like a sack of potatoes against his side.

But he walked quickly, and you were soon back in the House of Lamentation.

“Good night.” he said quietly, pushing your hair out of your eyes.

“Thank you.” you slipped out of your shoes, aware that you were still shivering. It might not have been the cold, though. You headed to your room, where you shucked off the faintly dirty jeans and changed into pajamas.

The next morning, when you woke sneezing and wheezing, Lucifer found out about your little outing and the pollens you'd been exposed to.

“Devil's snare?” he blinked, looking confused. “You must have misheard. There isn't devil's snare out there.”

Your jaw dropped as he carefully measured out a potion to take care of your allergies. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Belphegor smirk.


	7. Deeper Into Heavenly Suffering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You find yourself captured.
> 
> WARNING: CW: Abuse, implications of torture.!!!!!!!!!! Turn your pretty head if it's too real.

The chains bit into the flesh of your wrist. You had been standing on tiptoe for hours, trying to keep the pressure off. But your calves were shaking, your instep burned. It didn't matter, you realized. It was going to hurt. Everything was going to hurt. You let your weight hang, the metal digging in, stinging. At least you could only feel pain one place at a time, you thought hazily.

That's right, you told yourself. Try and look at the bright side here. You winced when your shoulder blades began to ache.

Really, this was your own fault when you thought about it. You had been told, in no uncertain terms, that you were not to leave the Academy on your own, You were to wait to be escorted by one of the brothers, and should they be unavailable, you were to go to Purgatory Hall with one of the other exchange student and wait to be picked up. And if that failed, you were to contact Barbatos and wait for an escort to Diavolo's palace.

Back ups on back ups. There was no excuse for what had happened, other than you were an idiot. Mammon had a modeling gig, Asmodeus had been shopping, Levi had done remote learning, Beel had practice, and Belphie had stuck around to watch. Satan had a book club. Lucifer had a meeting with Diavolo. There had been no one to walk you home.

Well, home wasn't that far anyway. And Levi was going to be there when you got there. That was almost as good as being escorted. So you'd buttoned up your jacket and swung your bag onto your shoulder and headed out on your merry way. You were even contemplating stopping at Madam Scream's for a treat when you heard it.

“Please!” it was a high pitched, distressed cry. You froze, eyes scanning the streets for the source. “Please, someone!”

You figured it came from the ally, and you began to run towards it, dropping your bag in the process. The bag with your wallet and DDD. But at the back of the alley, there was nothing other than a pile of trash cans.

“Is someone there?” you shouted. “I'm here, tell me where you are.”

“Please!” came the cry again, sounding even more desperate. You spun fruitlessly. And then there was a sharp sting to your neck, and you knew nothing more for several hours.

You had awoken on the rough, cold, stone floor. There were no windows. There was no light. Only the voices of your captors, whispering amongst themselves. You couldn't make out the words, really, and there were snatches of what you thought was Latin, maybe? 

“Please,” you coughed out. “You can have my bag. There's Grimm in there, and my DDD, that's probably worth money. I won't even tell anyone what happened. All you have to do is let me go.”

There had been screeches of laughter. A few seconds later, you strung up. 

You tried to clear your mind, to wait. To hope. Surely someone would come for you soon, you thought. Surely they were keeping tabs on you. You had been surprised you'd gotten as far as walking out of the school alone without a text from Lucifer scolding you. But there had been nothing, and so you'd thought that you would take advantage of the nice day and the time and space to breathe. To enjoy yourself.

You had clearly not thought that through.

Even if there was a tracker on your DDD, that was well and gone, you thought grimly. But how big was Devildom? How many people could there really be after you? Soon enough, one of them, maybe all of them would come and help you. You just had to be patient.

You steeled your resolve and tried to grip the chains, anything to shift your weight just a little bit. Your arms felt sticky, and you knew that you'd been bleeding. You remembered what you had been told, that bleeding here could be dangerous. They had never expanded on that thought, although to be fair, you had not asked. 

Maybe you were about to find out.

There was the creaky sound of a heavy door being opened. You perked up, heart thudding.

“You are a prize.” a dark voice hissed. “And I intend to keep it.”

“Who are you?” you dared to whisper.

“It doesn't matter. All that matters is that you're here with me. And those seven assholes aren't here to protect you. And they never will be.” 

“Wait!” you cried out as something small and sharp punctured your neck, and you were asleep.

Sleep was the wrong word for it, you thought as you groggily surfaced back into consciousness. They were drugging you. That made you more anxious than anything else. What were they doing to you when you weren't part of this world?

You tried to lift your arms. At least you weren't strung up anymore. Maybe you were somewhere worse though. Apparently your optimism was being taken out of you one injection at a time. You shuddered, the shackles around your wrists and ankles clattering. There was even one around your neck, increasing pressure if you swallowed too hard. 

“It awakes.” a voice spat.

“It's time.”

“Time for what?” you asked softly. “Hello? Who are you? What is this?”

“It better keep its mouth shut if it would like the opportunity to survive.”

Well, that was a good a reason as any to shut the hell up. But you couldn't stop the whimpering when hands began to pinch at your flesh here and there .The voice turned to murmurs as you began to tremble violently.

“Please!” you gasp out, in spite of yourself. “Please, just let me go.”

Pain suddenly cracked across your ribs, causing you to cry out. You weren't sure entirely what hit you, but it felt like a whip of some kind. Before you could catch your breath, it came again. You screamed.

“We will never let you go.” a voice growled in your ear. “You will be here until you die. You had better hope that is soon. And when your body has died, your soul will belong to me.”

You screamed again as the whip laid across your stomach. That sharp pain again. At least, you thought foggily, it was maybe helping with your needle phobia. Being unconscious was better than awake maybe.

There was that optimism again.

You weren't sure how much time passed. Your eyes were open, and you were dimly aware you were bleeding. Your eyes were closed, and you were wrapped in darkness and numbness. Your eyes were open, but you couldn't feel your limbs or move them. Your eyes were closed, and you were in an uneasy peace.

Your eyes were open, and you were aware of someone shoving a straw in your mouth. You tried to turn your head away, afraid of what they might be trying to give you. But a warning smack across the mouth made you sip carefully, almost deliriously happy it was water. A dry cracker or two then. Darkness. Awake, tears rolling down your face while you screamed out for anyone to come and help you, your arms strung up again.

Awake, hearing their whispered threats. They'll drain your blood. They'll rip your heart out. They'll eat your heart. They'll use your blood to make dark spells. It doesn't matter, you thought dimly. You're dead, dead, dead.

It's just a matter of time.

Time. If only time were on your side. If you could go back to that day. If you could just wait until practice was over. If you had called Barbatos to walk you home. If you'd texted Solomon or one of the angels to hang out. If you'd gone to book club.

If you had one more day to take it all back. You knew then that you weren't afraid of dying. You'd never really been afraid to die. You wouldn't have been able to stomach half the things that had happened to you in Devildom if you'd been afraid to die, and that was a fact. 

You regretted other things. You didn't regret what you had done, and not even what you had not done. You'd always known that there were some roads you were never meant to walk, and some doors that would always be closed to you.

You regretted the pain your death was going to cause others. That was your bitter regret.

Darkness. Maybe this would be the last time, you thought with just a pin prick of hope.

Voices, but different this time. You struggled to open your eyes.

“She's alive!” a joyful voice you almost recognized. “Shit, you had us terrified.” a hand on your hair. You reached weakly for the wrist of whomever it was.

“She's alive?” someone repeated. Hurried footsteps, another body next to you, smelling sweet and like home. “Her heart is still beating.”

“Please,” you whispered. “Take me home?”

“Of course,” a smooth voice. The other bodies moved aside. You were picked up, cradled like a baby against someone's chest. “We're going to clean you up first. Asmo, light, please.”

The room was illuminated, stinging your eyes. You winced against it, your head throbbing. You didn't have the strength to raise your arm to cover your eyes. 

“Look at me,” the voice demanded. You let your eyes crack open. Lucifer. You were sitting in his lap, pulled tight to his chest.   
“That's my good girl.” he praised, looking you up and down. He kept his expression still, but you knew damn good and well you were a mess. Your lips were dry, cracked, swollen when you tried to moisten them with your tongue. He responded by bringing a bottle of water to your lips.  
'Sip slowly, dearest. You'll be sick.'

“What happened?” you swallowed a few times, pain in your throat. Whether it was dehydration, disuse, or abuse, you couldn't be sure.

“Some awful demons wanted you.” Asmo hovered over his shoulder. He looked like he wanted to cry. “You're black and blue and bloodied all over.”

“Hush!” Lucifer hissed. He wiped at your face with a damp rap. It felt nice against you, and you smiled faintly.  
“I'm afraid this is more than I can do here. We'll have to take you to Diavolo's, dearest.”

“Isn't he angry at me?” you rasped.

“Angry?” Mammon's face now, frowning. “Why would he be angry at'cha?”

“I didn't obey. Aren't you mad, Lucifer?”

“For what?” he asked softly.

“I didn't listen! I wasn't supposed to walk home alone. You were afraid something like this would happen, weren't you?” you reached to grip his shirt, faintly aware that you were wrinkling it. You didn't care. You had to know if he was mad at you.

“I never once, in my wildest dreams, thought someone would go to this length.” he said slowly. “Not after everyone knew what you meant to Diavolo. What the program meant. And certain after they all knew exactly what you meant to me.”

He rose suddenly, carrying you bridal style. You craned your neck, trying to see around the room. He easily pressed you against him, so your face was buried in his chest as he walked out of the room, quickly but with some care not to jostle you.

“No, dearest. You don't want to see.”

“I don't?” you murmured.

“You don't want to know what we did to them.” Satan said darkly. You wanted to reach your hand out, to touch him, to be sure he was real. But there was a lingering smell in the air, the one you always thought of as being like lightning, that let you know at least one of them had been in their demon forms recently.

“Satan, will you and Levi go ahead and tell Diavolo we have her? Tell Barbatos to be prepared for her state. Tell him we're coming. I can't fly with her, and I can't go too fast. We can't shock her. Belphegor, will you make sure the pathway is clear for us? I don't want her bumped around. Beel, will you and Asmo and Mammon clean up?”

For once, no one argued. Everyone just fell to. You wondered what kind of cleaning up there was, but thought it better than to ask. You let your full weight fall into Lucifer's arms. He didn't seem to mind, anyway. He walked carefully, but not without some manner of haste.

“Don't fall asleep, please.” he was close to begging. Must be a miracle, you thought, him begging. “I am afraid you'll go into shock.”

“They said you weren't coming.”

“They were mistaken.” he said darkly. “That was, perhaps, one of the greatest mistakes of their lives.”

“Are they dead?”

“They wish.”

You shivered slightly, trying to curl closer to him. He did some juggling and draped you in his cloak. He stared at you for a moment, laying there in his arms.

“I'd be lying if I didn't tell you I was hoping I'd get to hold you this close one day. I must admit, these are not the circumstances that I was hoping for, though.”

“Be pretty awful if you thought this was fine.” you mumbled. A low rumble of a chuckle was your reward.

“It's good to see a shred of your humor.”

“What took you so long?” there were a few beats of silence, just the sound of him hurrying as much as he dared to bring you to Diavolo. You didn't want to turn your head, but the buildings passing you by let you know that you couldn't be that far away.

“I am sorry, dearest. I can only offer you my deepest regret. It took longer than it should have to realize that you weren't anywhere we thought you'd be. And then we sorted that out, and then we had to try and piece together what had happened to you. You were there one moment, and gone the next. And then we found your bag. We had to have Solomon do some spell work to track you down, and there were wards put in place that I had to break.” he was maybe rambling a bit, but his voice was soothing.  
“All I can tell you is that I am so sorry. This was never meant to happen.”

“Be awkward if this had been a game plan.” you mumbled. He clutched you to his chest as he carefully made his way up the steps. In the glaring light, in the doorway, you made out the form of Diavolo and Barbatos. You were sure the other demon brothers sent ahead were hovering in the background.  
“I was just surprised. You were always on top of everything. That's all.”

There was bustling around you, suddenly. You remembered the rest of the night in clips and fragments. Solomon holding your hands in his, examining your wrists. Someone mentioning an IV. You struggled against the idea and realized you were still in Lucifer's lap. He said something about you being afraid, and turned your head to burrow into his neck.

“I wouldn't let anyone hurt you. Not ever again.” he whispered to you. “I know you're tired of being brave, but just one more time. And then it won't hurt again.”

Someone wiping your face with a warm wet cloth. Being laid down. Bandages winding around you. Something being spooned in your mouth, warm and salty and good. Drifting in and out of sleep. You were somewhat aware of the fact that Lucifer was never far from you.

Even a few days later, he insisted on carrying you back to the House of Lamentation in his arms. You sat on his lap in the car in the backseat, your ear against his heartbeat. He laid you in his own bed to recover.

He said you weren't getting far from him ever again.

That was all right with you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked that one!
> 
> The soundtrack for this fic is as follows:  
> Mammon: Novocaine: Fall Out Boy  
> Asmodeus: In My Head- as covered by Mayday Parade  
> Satan: Miss U- The Neverdies  
> Beelzebub: Black Water-Of Monsters and Men  
> Leviathan: Crying Over You-Dead By April  
> Belphegor: Foreigner's God-Hozier  
> Lucifer: Heartache Every Moment-HIM
> 
> I might do another one. Obligatory sick!fic, anyone?


End file.
